


The Kids Are Not Alright

by skyes



Series: If you were Oz [2]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Mage AU, POV Alternating, maybe bit of background past DamiColin, tim meets family, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:19:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8187599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyes/pseuds/skyes
Summary: Tim is back to Gotham, and getting comfortable. But he can't really run away from his... family anymore. The family he missed so much, the family, that missed him so much.And, of course, there is Damian.And Damian still hasn't decided, if this is a nightmare, or the best dream he have ever had.





	

**Author's Note:**

> sorry guys, this took me so long to finish, not to mention, i'm still an esl, and noone checked this, so i'm sorry about grammatical mistakes, please let me know, what should i correct. i also hope i can deliver you the next part sooner, than this.

When Tim entered the flat it smelled like dust and moss and past. Underneath the emptiness and lost times, the scent of his days as Robin- as Red Robin- was strong and choking. It was painful somewhat. It hurt. Strong fingers of memories were clenching his throat, making it hard to breathe. It was like a panic attack and Tim fought hard against it. This was once his life- the huge computers covered with powder, laid there lifeless. He wasn’t sure if he had electricity in the building or if the machines were still working.

He had some shining bubbles flickering around him, lighting his path as he looked around. He needed to air the rooms, get rid of this feeling of the things already behind him, because it was suffocating, and he was not his past, not anymore. He had a backup generator underground, if nothing else that should work even if it was seven years since he last used it.

For his surprise when he opened the tap, it coughed up dirty then fresh water. He had a private bank account, maybe he forgot to cancel the expenses for electricity, gas and water and they were still charging him. There was quite a big money on that account, so it wouldn’t be surprising really, it could have lasted for another couple of years before running out especially because he technically didn’t use any of those. He tapped the light switch just to see if he was right, and the next moment most of the flat dressed in daylight.

It was… dirty. He could have clean it with a swing of his hand, really- it was already late in the night when he met Damian, and way over midnight now, and he felt his bones heavy in his body. He sensed something close to jetlag, time had its own rules in Purefly, ran totally differently than in Gotham. Nevertheless, Tim decided to just clean it himself. He was tired, but he also was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep, so he might as well just take care of the whole place. It was a lot of work, lot of dust everywhere, but it was okay. It felt nice to do something and not thinking of tomorrow, when he possibly need to face the family. It wouldn’t take them too much time to track him, Tim wasn’t naïve enough to think otherwise.

By 2:30 am he was ready with the kitchen and living room, so at least the sofa was in a state that was adequate for sleeping. And Tim thought that maybe he should go to sleep _anyway,_ if he didn’t want to fuck up his biorhythm again. He was no longer the Red Robin with shockingly bad sleeping habits, and by all means, he had no reasons to go back to that kind of lifestyle. Not right now at least. Not after 7 years of totally normal sleep.

He already had peeled himself out of his plain gray tee, when he heard a light knock on his window. Tim inhaled sharply, deeply, _dangerously_ , his brain was working fast, bringing up defensive and lethal spells, he felt electricity running on his skin and the tiny metal balls in his pocket were vibrating. The last thing he needed was a visitor in the middle of the night. Not to mention this was a place that no one should have known of. His muscles were tense in anticipation, a bad feeling nestled in his guts. He couldn’t breathe out and the next moment the window opened and he saw boots and pants and leather jacket, with a _red hood_.

Tim exhaled slowly.

It was awkward for a moment. He was staring at the man he knew _all too well_ , but couldn’t see his eyes, nor his expressions except for the tense shoulders.

For a brief second there was only silence between them. Then Jason moved slowly and tugged his helmet off.

“Hey, Timmy.”

“Hi, Jason.”

Tim didn’t know what else to say, so he tilted his head and folded his arms, then eyed Jason from head to toe.

“Don’t worry, the demon didn’t track you. I found the apartment after you… left, back then. We were really desperate to find you, Timmy, but I thought maybe there was a really good reason for you not telling us about this place, so I let it be.”

Tim nodded, slowly.

“Thank you.”

At the moment, Jay was the easiest to deal with. Their relationship never was flawless to begin with, but Tim trusted him for some reason, just like after his madness passed, Jason trusted Tim. Both of them were kind of outsiders in this family, and that formed a strange fellowship between the two. But that was all before– before Damian, before Purefly, before _magic._

“Damian is out of it right now. B went mental. They haven’t told Dick yet, so…”

For that comment the younger man raised a brow. He could feel rage building up inside of him, and Tim knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t do anything against it.

“What do you mean _Damian is out of it_?” he asked with a flinch in his voice. “He has no right… _shit,_ ” he sighed and rubbed his face. After all these years he still could feel the anger over that eleven year old asshat, who made him run. Not to be mistaken, Tim knew fully well he was to blame at least as much as Damian was, but still. It was always easier to make it someone else’s fault.

“Hey, Timber,” Jay pointed a finger on him, “they’re hard on the little demon after you left. Even Bruce could feel that it was at least partly the fault of the demon spawn. When he had gotten older he could also see his own mistakes. He is not the kid with anger issues anymore you probably remember.”

“So are you on his side now? I thought you hated him,” Tim snorted with sarcasm in his voice. Jason frowned.

“I’m on no one’s side here, alright? I hardly can recognize you, not to mention Damian said you’d had _fire around your fingers,_ when you two met. But if we put that aside, I just freaking wanted to see you, because you are my brother and I haven’t seen you in fucking seven years. So don’t you dare question me here, Timmy. I’m not your enemy. I’m not the one who disappeared without a second thought, or a damn note on the fridge.”

Tim coldly raised an eyebrow.

“Are you really going to give me that speech after everything _you_ had done?” he asked calmly, and Jay winced. Tim felt a bit bad about it, but not too much. Definitely not enough to take back the words. He ran his fingers through his black hair, and for a moment, only for a moment, really, he thought about himself, about how Jason sees him now after all those years.

Sure, his hair was longer, and he grew a bit – only an inch and a half, but still, and he was still as muscular as ever. Magic haven’t changed his looks, nor it ever will.

Jason’s voice brought him back to the here and now, when the older started to talk again.

“No. No, I won’t,” Jason breathed out slowly, then relaxed into his standing position, arms hanging loosely beside his thighs. “So, where have you been? And what’s up with the fire? Are you a meta now?” he asked with forced calm in his voice, like it was just another night they would spend together, like there was nothing weird about it at all.

Tim eyed him just a moment longer before he waved his hand, singing that maybe they should sit down. Jason took one of the chairs in the now clean kitchen, and Tim followed suit.

“I can’t offer anything, I don’t even have coffee yet,” Tim admitted while sitting down, but Jason only shrugged.

“I’m fine with water or nothing,” he said and Tim saw him as his eyes shifted from Tim’s bare shoulders down on his skin that looked fair and only faintly scarred. He didn’t received one in the past seven years. “So… I assume you have a rather long story to tell here. It’s weird, you’ve never been so silent before,” Jason grinned. “I’m so happy to see you, dammit, kid.”

Tim felt the corners of his mouth tugging for that sentence. He _did miss_ Jason, too. He started relaxing now that they were sitting, and the heavy atmosphere seemed to pass by. It indeed was a long story, but he might as well could just summarize it for Jay.

“I ain’t no meta and you know that, too. I’m pretty much sure you’ve seen Bruce’s file on me, so you know that the gene is completely missing from my system. They can’t start the mutation without a gene to mutate, so there’s no way I could ever become one,” he pointed out, and the light in Jason’s dark grey eyes told him that he’d just seen the old nerdy Tim for a moment there. Tim swallowed a smile, and was digging in his pockets to find his little iron marbles. “I’m not a superhuman. I’m a wizard,” he said, looking at Jay.

“You’re a _what_ now?” asked Jay with huge eyes, raised eyebrows. “ _What the shit, Tim?”_

Tim exhaled long and deep. There was no other way to put this, and honestly, he didn’t want to sell too much about Purefly, but he did know that Jason deserved _some_ explanation.

“I, uh… I travelled. After I left here. Mostly without a goal, I… I just wanted to leave this whole place and life behind, and I somehow ended up in front of this place called Purefly. I can’t really talk about it, not in details at least, I’m not even sure I could even if I wanted to.

“Purefly is magic. There’s only two ways to get there: you’re either a child of a magical family, or you need to be interesting enough, so the place _wants you_ there. And, for some reason, I happened to be someone, who fell under the latter category.

“Frankly, magic has its own logic, and that, most of the times, seems totally illogical even to people who uses it. Also, you are not able to do all kinds of stuff you know. There are spells that are just not suited for you. That mostly happens with elements. I only can handle three, the other two are just completely blacking out on me,” Tim laughed and threw one of the iron balls up to the air. The focused look on Jason’s face was something so familiar, so _home,_ he almost choked.

“Which three?” Jay asked.

“Iron is my main, that’s why I keep these little guys always close. Iron is the easiest to handle, every magic that connects to it feels like second nature to me. And then there is fire, and there is air. I’m helpless with earth and water, tough,” he shrugged.

“You still sound rather amazing,” Jay grinned, and this time Tim couldn’t help it- he grinned back. He remembered the childish crush he harbored on Jason before the guy tried to kill him, and maybe even after that. Only for a moment, but it felt like he never left. Only for a moment he felt like he was seventeen again, and nothing went wrong, and he still had a family, he still had a home.

Only if it was true.

\--

Tim was sure, that the family would have been on his doorstep the next morning, if it wasn’t for Jay. The older man however made sure that they left him alone. One whole week in Gotham, and still no one came except for Jason, who had some occasional step ins. Tim’s flat looked good now, he had the clear water and half of his computers back- all the data was really old and irrelevant on them though. He also had a phone with only two numbers in it: Jason’s, because the other former Robin deserved it and deserved his trust, too, and Noah’s, because at the moment, the other mage was the only person on the Earth, with who Tim’s relationship was steady and sure.

Sometimes Jason talked about the family. Members Tim didn’t really know all that well, and he told tales from the past seven years. He even invited him to the Manor, but so far, Tim was reluctant to go. To be honest, he just couldn’t muster up the courage.

Until the next week, that is.

“ _Timbo, Alfred is making your favs, I really think you should come and see the old butler. This family is full of assholes, but he is the single exception. He deserves to see you. See you at the castle tonight around seven?”_

Tim really didn’t know how to say no to that, so he typed _okay._ He really needed some new clothes and whatsoever, so this looked a good opportunity for refreshing his wardrobe, too. He unconsciously rubbed his mage name on his wrist, before he left the flat, and headed to downtown. It was kind of weird, walking on the all-too-familiar streets, and feeling not just completely alone, but as a stranger. He lived on fast food and pizza in the past week, so it seemed like a good idea to do some grocery shopping, too.

Couple of minutes later he realized, he should have just stuck with clothes.

He had hard time recognizing the teen, although this time he was without cape and mask. The Damian, he remembered, though, was a chubby faced, little devil, with a pout on his lips and angry lines between the brows, and this guy here was nothing like that. Nothing at all.

He was tall, Tim had to give that to him _again_ , he looked even taller without his uniform, without being part of the always-present shadows of Gotham. He had an undercut, his black hair falling to his forehead, sometimes even to his ungodly green eyes. Damian has grown up to be really freaking handsome and Tim was sure, if he didn’t know him, he’d be doomed.

But he did know the little demon, even though Damian wasn’t little anymore, and looked nothing like a demon at all, he had to admit.

He tried to sneak past him, but apparently Damian had superhearing and probably unhuman reflexes, because he grabbed Tim’s shoulder, when he spotted the older one’s suspicious movements from his periphery. But when he realized whose shoulder he’s gripping, he let him go, like he touched fire.

“Okay, I’m not _that_ disgusting,” said Tim only half kidding, because he couldn’t identify the look on Damian’s face, and it slightly did look like disgust.

“No, I did not mean it like that, I just…” Damian _mumbled_ much for Tim’s sour childish satisfaction.

“It’s okay, demon spawn, I don’t bite. And most of the times I don’t have fire around my skin either,” he chuckled, and Damian flushed. It was hard to see the tiny pink against his olive skin, but it was still there, and Tim still noticed it, and it was really freaking hard not to comment on it. But Tim was a grown up now, and even though he liked being a bitter teenager, this Damian, here, didn’t do anything to him.

Not yet, that is.

“Do not call me _that,_ Drake,” he groaned, and something from the _old_ Damian moved under his now 18-years-old skin. Tim grinned, now.

“Then what do they call you?” he asked.

“Dami. We call him Dami.”

He definitely didn’t know the owner of this new, husky voice. The boy was around Damian’s age, or maybe a bit older and for a moment Tim honestly thought, that he had seen the younger, _wilder_ edition of Roy Harper, and that was something to say.

“Wilkes!” Damian hissed, and the boy only laughed at him then put one of his arms around Damian’s neck. Tim eyed them for a moment, he was not sure if they were a couple, or just really close friends. All honest, both seemed quite out of character for Damian. He had never seen the youngest Wayne so relaxed in another human being’s presence, and yet, here they were. “So, who is the pretty one?” asked the ginger, and he gave an all-over to Tim.

Tim’s skin itched under the green orbs, and he fought back the fidgeting. Instead, he maintained eye contact, and put only curiosity up as a front.

“He… He is…” Damian couldn’t find the right words, and although Tim felt kind of joyous over that, he helped him out. Only this one time.

“I’m Tim Drake. You know, the one who ran away,” he offered his hand, and the redhead took it. Tim saw Damian gasping, but he himself wasn’t ashamed of being scared or coward. That’s his past. He was a different person now. He was Tim Drake. Hermes.

“I’m Colin,” the teen introduced himself, then added “So you’re the one this idiot had a crush on back then, huh?”

Tim laughed over that. The assumption itself was ridiculous.

“No. No, that was Dick, my… our brother. He was all over him.”

Tim, however couldn’t see how Damian kicked Colin’s leg, therefor he had no idea, that maybe Colin didn’t confuse him with Dick. That maybe Colin knew exactly who he was. That maybe Colin was _right._

“I hear from Todd that you are coming over for dinner?” Damian changed the topic. Tim nodded, became cautious again. “Father was really happy,” said Damian softly, and that, again, was so uncharacteristic, Tim didn’t know how to react at all, so he just cleared his throat and looked away.

“Well, I haven’t seen him in ages, and I also missed Alfred, so…” his chest hurt over the words, and he was desperate to talk about something… _anything else._ “Are you coming too, Colin? You two seem close.”

“Nah, I have the overnight shift, and I wouldn’t want to… Like, I mean this is kind of a family reunion, right? It’s better if there are only family around the table tonight. But some other night, maybe? You are really pretty, after all,” he grinned, and Tim couldn’t fight back the warmth that slowly climbed up to his face.

When was the last time someone complimented him?

“Well, thanks? Sorry, boys, but I really need to buy some things. See you,” he waved, and tried to escape without actually looking like someone, who’s escaping.

This encounter felt weird. Damian’s friend was weird. _Damian_ was weird.

And Tim was one hundred percent sure he shouldn’t have been thinking of Damian as someone incredibly attractive and handsome, but well… he kind of did. And it was very confusing, to say the least.   

\--

Damian feared this night _so much._

He was still kind of under some kind of shock. Having Drake back, facing the fact that he was alive all along and also, seeing him being _someone else._ Someone, who flies, someone, who has electricity dancing on his beautiful skin, someone, whose eyes are still so pretty, so clear, so _glasslike._

He had changed so much, yet he didn’t change at all. He was still beautiful.

Back then, when he was a kid, Damian hated his guts. Or, should we say he loved him, he found him beautiful, and he hated _that._ But he was not a kid anymore. He was almost a grown-up. And he still found Tim Drake beautiful. So many things had changed, and yet, nothing really.

After that first encounter he came home, and he talked to his father, talked to Grayson, talked to Todd, to _everyone_ really, and it was weird, and frightening, and even after couple of hours, even after everyone went sleep, he had been still lying in his bed, and he was very much awake. _His body_ was awake too.

He didn’t really understand the reaction he had. He was hard, and he couldn’t think of anything else, but Drake’s skin against his fingers, his body being so close to his, his body, _feeling alive and real._ Damian fought that night, against himself, and had lost the battle. He touched himself, and panted quiet _Drakes_ in his pillows, and all the sweat against his skin felt like the fire Drake was bending, and his breath was so glasslike, as the older man’s eyes.

It was unbearable.

Days went by, and now, here they were. The whole family gathered in the manor, dishes so many, he did not bother counting it. Grayson was fidgeting all day, like someone being really happy and incredibly scared at the same time, his father said less than on normal days, and Damian would have sworn to God, he had seen Cassandra, Barbara and Stephanie on the couch, all hugging, while the latter cried her eyes out.

When Drake arrived – at seven precisely – they all started to move at the same time, except for Damian, that is. Ha saw Alfred, as the old man opened the front door, whispering _“Master Timothy!”_ than he saw Grayson, how he first punched the third son, then gave him the tightest hug ever given. And then all the women, all crying, or on the verge of tears, hugging him, peppering him with kisses. It was ridiculous. Even his father, even Bruce Wayne, even Batman embraced him, and it felt like Damian was dreaming.

He couldn’t yet decide if this was a good dream, or a nightmare.

He was quiet during the meal. He did not have anything to say, and Todd was late for dinner, so for a little while, everything was about him. And after that, of course, everything was about Drake.

So many things happened in the last seven years, yet it seemed like Tim’s life wasn’t altered by time. He had some stories he could share, but he mostly learnt. Damian could tell, his father is not happy about Tim being a mage, or wizard, or whatever.

Yet, Bruce didn’t say a word, not yet anyway. Everyone was still too happy having Drake back to ruin it with business, with missions, with more questions.

After dinner, they went out. It wasn’t exactly cold, the autumn only had begun after all, and, for a change, the sky was clear, and here, out of the city, they could see all the stars. Bruce hadn’t join them for this, and Todd also headed back to the city, but the others did lay down on thick blankets, and the girls were playing with Damian’s dog.

None of them talked much. There wasn’t much else to say, without breaking the calm and warm atmosphere, and frankly, nobody wanted that, not even Damian.

He must have dozen off, though, cause the next thing he knew, that he was laying on a blanket alone, and Drake was hovering over him, shaking his shoulder gently. It was just a stupid reflex, but he caught the older’s wrist, and his grip was maybe a bit too tight.

“What?” he asked, his voice husky.

“You’re going to get a cold. Everyone’s gone back inside.”

“No, I am not.”

“Well then, suit yourself, your majesty.”

Tim wanted to pull back his hand, but Damian didn’t let him.

“Do you hate me, Drake?” he asked, and it was a stupid question, but he couldn’t take it back, and he wanted to know. He had to know.

“I’ve never hated you. I hated how you made me feel. But we grow up, Damian. You can’t do anything to me anymore. I won’t get scared of you anymore.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked more serious, than he intended to.

“It is,” Drake breathed out, and for some reason Damian’s cheeks were hot, he couldn’t stand Drake’s blue eyes on him anymore, so he glanced away. That was when he saw it. The letters on Drake’s wrist.

“You have got a tattoo?” he asked, and Tim chuckled.

“It’s not a tattoo, that’s my mage name. My mentor gave it to me on my last day.”

“They named you after the god of thieves,” Damian hummed, and Drake shrugged a shoulder.

“It’s odd though, that you can see it. Only mages should be able to do that. Or well, family. You count as family I guess” he said, then sat back. Half a minute later, he started to laugh.

“What?” Damian asked again, and Tim shook his head.

“Family, or my one true love. You pass one of those, little demon, and that idea humors me big time, you see,” Drake said, still chuckling under his breathe. Damian’s face heated up, and he was really, really happy, that it was dark outside.

He eyed Drake, his amusement, and for a short moment, he wandered, how would it be, being this man’s love. And in the next moment, he was leaning in, his lips brushing Drake’s only for a moment. The older man at least stopped that ridiculous, annoying chuckling. Not that the stare he gave Damian instead was any better.

“Why… you…”

“It was nothing, Drake,” Damian lied. “I am just grateful that you are home. So now I can leave the guilt behind.”

It was all a lie.

If anything, he felt even more guilty, when he stood up, grabbed half of the blankets, and headed back to the house.

And his heart was pounding thousand miles an hour.

 


End file.
